


Solace in Solitude: Origins of Blue Beard

by Johndeleon86



Category: Blue Beard - Fandom, La Barbe bleue | Bluebeard - Charles Perrault
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johndeleon86/pseuds/Johndeleon86
Summary: After fleeing their burned down home and city in London in the year of 1666, a wealthy slave trader by the name of Benson Blackwood takes his pregnant wife Agnes to a settlement in Africa. There they find riches in return for a curse placed upon their unborn child who had unknowingly been exposed too large amounts of silver dust which leads to a distortion of color in his face. Thinking of their son as some sort of cursed abomination, we learn of the downward spiral a young Bluebeard descends upon as he decides hes had enough and seeks answers as well as his freedom.
Relationships: Benson Blackwood/ Agnes Blackwood
Kudos: 1





	Solace in Solitude: Origins of Blue Beard

Solace in Solitude: Origins of Blue Beard  
The year was 1666, the day the 4th of September and London was set ablaze in a raging storm of fire with no end in sight. The glowing orange timbers had engulfed the once bustling city leaving it to nothing but ashes. To escape the choking smoke and radiating heat Benson Blackwood, a wealthy slave trader and well-known figure in London takes his pregnant wife Agnes aboard one of his several ships destined for the Gold Coast. A British colony in West Africa where he was expected to receive shipments of both people and raw materials like silver stolen from the bountiful ore locations scattered throughout the ancient lands. His wife Agnes is a religious woman at heart but is very aware of how her husband makes his fortune and although is against her personal beliefs blinks an eye because of the luxurious lifestyle provided by her ruthless but handsome husband. The voyage took several months and it was almost time for the baby but refusing to give birth under such poor conditions in an alien country like Africa Agnes begins to revel her husband Benson for subjecting her too such an experience for their first child together. Benson however believes his wife should be more grateful considering they would have had nothing had they stayed in London and would have to rebuild upon returning home. Likewise, they could live like King and Queen with the fortune Benson had attained from his business which specialized in the movement of human labor across the trans-Atlantic sea and into the new world. Benson Blackwood had also dipped his toes into the lucrative mining industry by ordering his “investments” as he would often call his slaves, to seek out the richest mines in the area and fill the ships with as much raw silver as it could carry. Thus, he would profit twice off the sweat and work of others. Benson Blackwood considered himself to be an opportunist and would seek to make coin wherever he saw some to be made. He was tall and well-built man who believed violence was a necessity to maintain order and keep his investments in line with his expectations. As for the “Investments” themselves, they hated their masters and often prayed for evil and curses to fall upon him and his family for forcing them against their will and often receiving beatings for anything that was considered suspicious behavior. Little did they know their prayers were soon to be answered. As fate would have it, Bensons decision to keep his wife safe from danger at home only exposed her to an immense amount of silver dust for an extended time causing the still unborn child to develop within, with a rare skin condition called Argyria which caused color distortion and permanent blue pigmentation throughout the body. Agnes had begged Benson to allow her to return home where she could at least be with her friends and family during childbirth but Benson refused, claiming he would be present during the arrival of his first born, and urged the financial implications for leaving without gathering the necessary amount of resources that would secure their sons future. It was now December of 1666, and the Blackwood’s were expecting the delivery of their child at any day. Benson noticed a difference in his wife since the arrival to the Gold Coast, it was subtle but she seemed off put and disinterested in the riches, worried she may be becoming ill Benson hired a witch doctor to perform a ritual to return happiness to his wife and marriage. However, the witch doctor hired by Benson was the aunt of one of Bensons previous investments from years prior, and he had not the recollection of who that had even been nor who he had hired. The witch on the other hand knew exactly who the Blackwood’s were and had prayed many times to the Gods to allow justice to be served for the heinous and greed Benson and his countrymen had deprived their once peaceful country of. In a wicked chant of words and mantras the witch woman was placing a lifelong curse upon their newborn child right in front of them and they had no clue what was happening. In a wail of pain Agnes lets out a howling scream and grips her husbands’ hand as the witch doctor yells above continuingly screaming in an unknown language. Then a thundering crackle splits the sky followed by an immense boom like the sound of a thousand trumpets letting off at once, and in that moment a legend was born. The witch doctor slows her chants down to whisper and dances in a joyful manner as Benson and his wife look upon a baby boy, except something appears to be very wrong. The baby’s skin is dark blue from neck to nose and spots riddled throughout his entire body like a sickness spreading. Without a single word Benson runs out of the tent and as far away as he can to process what was happening to him. How could God bring such a blight upon him? Why me? Benson kept asking as he filled his face with mead. Meanwhile Agnes left alone with her newborn son and the witch whom she thought was her friend, cried in agony for having been tasked with bringing life to such an abomination. She sat on her mat and asked the witch if this was of her own doing. The doctor laughed and smiled and replied not of her own but of the sins of the father and said nothing more leaving the room to the sound of a crying child.

Six years later… 

Mother and father no longer loved one another, and mother often blames me for disrupting what was supposed be a perfect family, but mom was raised from a traditional catholic family and didn’t believe in divorce. Father on the other hand didn’t care and wanted nothing to do with me or mom focusing solely on his business, always leaving out of the country for extended periods leaving mother and I all alone in the family mansion, a renovated castle on the outskirts of London. It was certainly too big for just the two of us and the servants but being all alone I often loved and enjoyed running around the many rooms and corridors seeking adventures of my own. I didn’t have many friends as mother and father believed it best that I be homeschooled because of my condition claiming I had a sickness. You see reader I was stripped of many freedoms from birth, I never even got to see what the world was like outside of the castle, much less what I had even looked like, as all the mirrors in our home were stripped and destroyed, all except for one in mothers closet, and I was forbidden to enter. Mother once told me when I was only a child people thought father had a curse placed upon him because of some evil people who were jealous of fathers success, therefore he hid mother and I away to protect us but it felt more and more like I was the one who was suffering the curse as I was restricted to solitude, longing to meet people other than mother. Not that I didn’t enjoy being around mother, but she was often in fluctuating moods, at times appearing happy and joyful then suddenly cursing and blaming me for ruining her life. I didn’t understand her and because of this, I was often confused about how I felt inside. On one hand I wanted to love her and try to help her feel better, but I also felt a building anger and resentment towards her for locking me up like I was some kind of monster. What was so different about me compared to others I often thought to myself? Would I ever know what the outside world was like? Would I ever make friends and find someone who would show me the love and compassion I so longed for? One day near the end of spring father returned home from a grand voyage. I didn’t know my father too much, but I had heard stories from the servants about how cruel he could be. Something was different about this visit however, he seemed larger than usual still with a handsome face but a deep sadness in his piercing grey eyes when he would look down upon me. From his expression alone I could feel my own sense of sadness begin to build as I knew then and there my father would never love me. It was okay though, I didn’t need him to love me, I just needed to find others who would. One night while eating dinner mother had taken a fancy to a new form of liquid brought by father from the new world. I wasn’t allowed to taste it but judging from their expressions it had to have ben some form of magical happy juice, for it brought about the largest smile in both of my parents that I had seen in my entire life. For a moment I had felt a sense of normalcy, a sense of family, but it didn’t last for long. About three quarters of an hour in after smiling at one another and talking as if they had just met, they both paused and turned as if to remember they had a child. “Benjamin why don’t you head upstairs and get ready for bed, there’s something id like to discuss with your father” Mother said in low and grim tone. It was the look in her eyes more than anything that caused me to get up without question and begin to head in the direction of my room, but it was what they were wanting to discuss that peaked my curiosity far above the fear of being caught. With this I had hid beyond the dark hallways away from the dining room and behind a cupboard and carefully listened to what was being spoken of. “The entire town already knows of his existence Benson; I don’t know why we continue to hide him away” Agnes says as she begins to tear up. “You mean it? Do you not know the stories I’ve heard from my associates about the way all of London speaks about that thing!” Benson replies sharply. “How dare you, he is your son” Agnes screams back before taking a right-hand swipe across the face from a drunk Benson who yells down upon her “How dare I? I’ve given you everything Agnes, and all you’ve given me is a monstrous bastard son who I don’t even think is my own anymore” Agnes still on the floor holding her stinging red face with her cool palm staring straight through Benson and into the dark hallway where little Benjamin laid crying softly from what he was both hearing and seeing. “I thought I told you to go to your room boy” father yells at me in a snarky tone as he heads in my direction. In a scared manner I back up frantically dragging my bum across the cold oak floors as I pushed with my feet and hands quickly not paying attention to the direction I’m going only trying to escape. Fathers booming voice cried throughout the hallways as he yelled out, “Be bold, be bold but not too bold, lest that your hearts blood should run out cold, boy” as he laughed hysterically coming straight for me. The next thing I remember was waking up on a dirty brick floor in a dark room that I knew wasn’t my own. I got up and put my hands out in front of me trying to feel if I could recognize where I was at within my home but alas it seemed father might have locked me away in a dungeon somewhere. I felt miserable there, it felt as if days had passed, and no one had come to check on me, nor feed me. I was left alone in absolute darkness and solitude with nobody to talk to except myself. I don’t remember how long I was there, but I do remember the subjection to such cruelty as well as the rejection from my own family solidified the resentment in my heart towards them. I didn’t understand why I was being treated the way I was, but as a six-year-old child, I knew I wasn’t going to tolerate it any longer. I had sat in the darkness and allowed it to consume my heart, even in my dreams I could picture a dark colored woman screaming and chanting in a foreign language around a growing red fire as a figure soon to appear from the raging flames with large crimson colored horns and skin as red and melted as the fire itself. The figure appeared to grow in form until it was large enough to step outside of its realm and into ours taking its first step on land and I recall the sound of sizzling dirt and rock melting underneath its hoof as the dark woman chanted louder and louder embracing its presence. The entity reaches out and I feel the most immense heat imaginable but it doesn’t hurt, instead I reach back and in the moment my fingers touch the scorching mass of energy, I’m abruptly woken to the opening of a door and an immensely bright light that appeared to be the open sky, in front of me was mother and by her side was father who both stared down upon me in disdain. “Look at him Agnes, nobody will ever love him, why should we?” father says quietly as mother looks away with tears in her eyes. In that moment I knew something inside me had changed as I didn’t feel a remote drop of sympathy for myself instead, I had a lingering curiosity that had grown larger than my need for affection. And I asked, “What do I look like” as my mother and father stared back at me blankly. “You call me a burden a monster and refuse to let me look at a reflection of myself, well the irony in that is the refection of the look on your faces would stun you, as you might find you yourselves are the monsters. Even the creatures in my books aren’t as cruel to their own kin as you are to me!” I declared as I stood upon my two feet and clenched my fists in anticipation of resistance from my father. Instead he smiled wickedly and laughed asking, “You really want to know what you look like? I’ll show you, boy.” Mother grabs his arm in protest but stops and looks down at me with tears still engulfed in her eyes. Together we head into the castle and in direction of the forbidden closet across the long and quiet hallways. Not a single word is spoken but I feel as if the sound of my own heart can be heard in anticipation of discovering the features that made me cursed. We approach the door and father takes his ring of keys from outside of his coat pocket and begins to fumble with them in search of the correctly shaped key. I remember the smell of bronze and steel from the metals the jingling sound and then, the key itself. Father plucked a uniquely silver shaped key with a large handle with many shapes inscribed on it and inserted into the knob causing a clicking noise and then, the door was opened. I must say for the six years of life prior pondering the myth that surrounded myself and made me so seclusive to others always had a drastic effect on my confidence but the moment I saw my own piercing grey eyes for the first time the dark blue hue that ran across my face clearly distinguishing a difference in me from my own family I thought I was perfect. I smiled and touched my face in awe delighted to discover I was different; I was my own person and I would make use of what my mother and father had considered to have been a curse. I recollected to the dream I had had the night before and the entity reaching out from the fire and taking its first steps, I too felt how the fire creature must have felt to break free and walk on your own two legs for the first time. I turned and looked at my parents who stared back at me waiting for me to say something. Instead I had nothing to say because that would’ve given them satisfaction. Instead I took one good last look at myself and walked on down the hall and towards the direction of the front door and with the intention of never turning back. I had made it all but half way out the sprawling mansion as mother and father must have been in some shock or awe in how I handled myself, but they quickly came to their senses and recognized what I was attempting to do and stopped me. Father wouldn’t have his little abomination running around the town nor the country as he feared it would further taint his business and reputation but what he didn’t realize was how tainted and corrupt his own soul had become for the unjust handing and treatment of his own blood his own kin. For that vengeance was deserved and his reckoning it was decided would be of my own hand. As for mother I thought up her demise at first by poison, but the risk of being caught by the servants was too great so I resorted to something a little more creative. The only friends I had ever made in my time at the castle was that of the vermin that lingered in the dark crevices waiting for their giant overlords to lay dormant so they could venture and feast. They never feared me and I them, it was a mutual understanding we were the rejects of our residence. They would often allow me to touch them and pick them up as I often would gently rubbing the hair of their backs. I was very aware of how dirty they were and would use this knowledge to my later advantage. I had to be patient after all if I wanted to have my way, my freedom, my life, the cost for such an idea was as I determined the infliction of pain and misery unto those who got in my way. Due to the prolonged stay in isolation mother and father deemed it okay that I stay the night within the castle corridors and near there lodging. That night before dinner was served, I went down into the lower quarters in search for my vermin accomplice. It didn’t take long for me to find my furry friend and with it I crept threw the darkness and out of sight and mind of both the servants as well as my parents and into their palace of slumber. It was a large massive room with sprawling red curtains blotting out the dim and fading sun from existence. I had been in here only such few times in my life, but the energy within the still room was vibrant and trifled with the anticipation for what was about to be done. I tip toed over to mothers’ side of the bed and began to gently rub the little vermin onto her pillowside and all about her sheets. The little thing seemed delighted to be given such luxurious treatment and never began to fight back not once, instead sprinkling little droplets of urine uncontrolled from pure ecstasy. With that I let the little fella down unto the cold oak floors and off he scattered back into darkness, the only place he knew to be safe. I snuck back into the dining room to be greeted by the conversation of a mysterious man whom I had never seen nor heard, and he was speaking to father. When I entered the room, they both stopped and looked at me the mysterious man longer than father who instead stared back at him in search for a reaction. The man seemed to swallow his own words and took a step forward as if to shake my hand and show me kindness, but father grabbed his arm and told him to be weary for my sickness was infectious. Oh, how that boiled my blood for we both knew it not to be true, but I went along with it anyway not to arouse suspicion nor be locked back up outside the living quarters. I gave a faint cough and walked about like an innocent child living his last breath, but deep down that couldn’t be further from the truth it was all a façade. 6 minutes later we were having dinner and as everyone was devouring their meal, I sat pondering how to go about decapitating my father and keeping his head as a trophy without being caught all while poking at my food. Suddenly as if someone was reading my thoughts my father Benson began to vigorously choke on the very food, he was just enjoying. Mother and the maids got up in a frantic manner to try to help him, but they were without the proper experience necessary to help as he was too stubborn to even let them try. His expression full of panic began to turn the very same blue hue as that of my own as his veins raged through his handsome face, his eyes becoming blood shot red met my own and in that brief moment I knew I had already won. I was the last thing my father would ever see and ironic being how he left this world with the same color I entered, attained under a different set of circumstances. My mother began to cry terribly holding my fathers now dead corpse in her arms and it was honesty disgusting to see how much she appeared to care for him in his death considering she never showed him any affection when he was alive, at least that I noticed. I on the other hand was more disappointed that I couldn’t be the one to finish him off but was reluctant the deed was done. Now I just had to properly dispose of my own mother, and alas freedom would be my own. That night mother laid alone in her vast room sobbing all throughout till early morning, and I in the room beside hers waiting patiently for the pestilence to take hold. Wait I did, it took about a week or two for mother to develop any symptoms or signs a of sickness but like the black death that had swept Europe a few years prior, ravaged our own castle. Mother not knowing what had become of her was far too weak to leave her bed an any maids that would attend her side would shortly find themselves in a similar situation. It began with muscles aches, then a headache, followed by chills, and then the spread of the black death itself starting from the tips of the fingers until the body could no longer last fighting off infection. I actually never got to see my mother in her last moments as it was feared I would contract the very sickness that plagued our home and instead was sent away to a private school by recommendation of our servants, as they thought our castle was no place for a young man to be raised alone, and there was no longer anyone to say otherwise. I was recommended to an institution by the name of Lowood, where I would reside until the age of 18 learning a great deal of lessons my own family had previously refused to teach me. It was there I studied to use my words to better express myself, I attained discipline, and respect two values which were alien at first but became natural to me in my years of progression. The other kids though at first freighted by my initial appearance accepted me as one of their own by the end of my time at Lowood my transformation had been all but completed, I had even began to grow a luscious blue beard. My mission accomplished, ties to family sabered, and wealth inherited I was now allowed to venture into the world upon my lonesome with nothing holding me back. Life was great but something was till missing on the many adventures and travels I found myself on, all this money and freedom but I still felt so alone. At least with my time at Lowood I had made friends of my own age but in the real world nobody wanted to be my friend unless I had something to offer. I realized I needed a partner, someone to lay beside and call my own, someone who would love me, but it seemed mother and father had had the last laugh in death as there was no woman who would love me for me, instead seeking to fulfill their own desires of riches by marrying me for their own benefit rather than the idea of love itself. I was no fool, and so developed a plan to distinguish those who were worthy to be my bride and benefit from what I had to give them. I would allow my new bride the keys to the entirety of my family mansion in my absences with one restriction, they were forbidden to enter the room in which contained the very mirror that set me free, it was more of a test of their loyalty and fidelity than anything else and would distinguish the one thing money could not buy me, true love. I sat at a local pub one-night gulping down heaping amounts of ale when suddenly my entire world changed. The most beautiful woman I had ever laid my eyes upon entered and I knew in that moment she was destined to be mine. With a belly full of liquid confidence I approached her and asked for her name, to my astonishment she was in awe of my appearance and answered in a soft but beautifully spoken tone, “Cassandra Drake, and you are?”, I took her hand and gently kissed it responding back with a sly smile, “The pleasure is all mine miss Drake, the name is Benjamin Blackwood, but friends call me Blue Beard”. The End.


End file.
